


Close Call

by Peridot_Lyoness



Category: Black Dagger Brotherhood - J. R. Ward
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9055585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peridot_Lyoness/pseuds/Peridot_Lyoness
Summary: Hello everybody!So here is another snippet from Butch's and Vishous' life in the mansion. I wondered how those two would handle an injury. I hope you enjoy. Happy Christmas! Oh, these characters are not of my creation, they belong to JR Ward, jada jada jada. Leave some comments!





	

A loud beep quickly followed by an intrusive ring aroused a deeply asleep Dr. Manny Manello from his slumber in the early, cool hours of the Caldwell morning. Make that a pleasurable endorphin-induced semi-coma. He reached over to the marble-topped night table, carefully trying not to disturb the loose curtain of midnight strands covering the creamy expanse of Payne’s back. The doctor slapped his brotherhoood-issued Motorola into his palm.

“What’s going on?” a barely intelligible Manello asked in a hoarse voice, lower body starting to slide out of the bed. 

Vishous, who had been on patrol with Rhage and Qhuinn, expertly answered. “We are 15 minutes away, bringing Qhuinn in with a GSW on his right thigh. I’m applying pressure at the site. Bleeding has slowed, but I haven’t been able to stop it. He’s still conscious, breathing ok. No other injuries”. 

“Ok, I’ll be outside with a gurney. Keep the pressure and add more cloth on top of the old one if it soaks through.”

“Over and out” the vampire replied. 

Manello was fully dressed in clean green scrubs by the time the black Escalade sped in spitting gravel along a defunct flower bed. Rhage’s massive form agilely jumped from the driver’s seat as Manello placed the stretcher next to the back door. Vishous came out the back with the patient, who had passed out en route. 

V’s hand held pressure on the wound while he barked stats to Manello as the patient was wheeled inside. Rhage and the doctor quickly brought Qhuinn to the OR suite, where Ehlena was already scrubbed in and setting up a table with surgical instruments. The crimson cloths fell, staining the white tile floor, when Vishous removed his hand from the wound. 

The physician and Ehlena set to work quickly on staunching the bleeding and repairing the damage. Qhuinn’s breathing wasn’t compromised but his blood pressure was dangerously low. A large IV was being placed on the crook of Qhuinn’s arm and an oxygen mask strapped to his face by the time Vishous turned around to let himself out of the OR. His leathers were wet with the brother’s blood, but he found that he had no desire to abandon the double steel doors. The vampire removed his harness and daggers and laid them on the floor. He washed his arms thoroughly in the basin outside the suite and hunted down a clean pair of scrubs. He then proceeded to plant his ass down against the wall, head resting on his knees. 

Loud steps preceded the arrival of a very worried Blaylock, followed closely by an equally somber Butch. Hair spiked up and damp, Blay’s eyes drilled into Vishous’, a question plainly marked on his clear blue eyes. Vishous pulled on his goatee with his gloved hand as he returned the worried look. 

Butch’s pristine white Nike’s stopped in front of Vishous. The vampire looked up into a pair of bright whiskey eyes. The ex-cop silently offered his right arm, which V took to hoist himself up. The friends clapped each other briefly on the shoulder, their version of a warm hug, no words exchanged between them. None were necessary. 

Vishous directed his first words to Blay. “Manello and Ehlena just started on him. Don’t really have anything to tell you yet”.

Blay assented with his head, eyes unfocused and suspiciously glossy. 

“Thank you for bringing him home, V” Blay extended to the vampire, eyes seemingly registering for the first time his location. Vishous grimly bowed his head.

“Phury is bringing the Chosen Cordhelia to feed him when he wakes up” Butch offered, looking reassuringly to Blay. “He’ll be ok, kid” he added.

Blaylock’s forlorn gaze went to the metal doors. He licked his lips, biting down on the inside. One fisted hand lifted toward the OR, almost as if it was within his purview to affect the outcome of what was taking place on the other side of those silver doors. He shoved the hand deeply into his pant pocket and dropped his eyes to the wooden floor. His tongue felt glued to his palate and his heart was drumming out through his chest wall. 

“Your boy is not kicking it this time” affirmed V as he clasped Blay’s shoulder, guiding him to sit on a bench. 

Vishous retook his space holding the wall, standing shoulder to shoulder with the cop from Boston. A few minutes later, an impatient Blaylock stood up and paced quietly.

The whole brotherhood had been alerted about the events of the evening. The youngest of the brothers had again prevented one of them from going into the Fade, shedding his own blood for one of them. Wrath and Beth stopped by to sit with the downcast group. The royal couple left to their quarters once Vishous promised to update them as soon as they had any news. Rhage had returned to the field, joining Tohr and John Matthew, but had requested an update as well. 

After two and a half hours and countless steps on the hard floor, Manny emerged from the double doors, removing his surgical cap as he walked. Three sets of eyes fixed on him. The physician directed his comments to the redhead. 

“He is fine”. 

A collective breath was exhaled, one nobody had realized was being held in. 

The doctor continued. “His right femoral was perforated, but I repaired it. I wanted to be extra careful not to damage any of the nerves in that area further. The bullet lodged near the femur. I extracted it and it will heal fine. He’ll awaken shortly. I want him to feed and spend the night here for observation. He lost quite a bit of blood, so I need him to take it easy for the rest of the night and tomorrow. I’ll be checking on him later and will do a PT assessment on him in 24-36 hours, but I’m confident his range of motion will not be affected.”

“Can I see him?” Blay asked anxiously. 

Manny nodded. “Go ahead. He’ll be groggy, but will probably try to stand up if he wakes up and hears you out here.” 

The physician walked into the little office next to the OR as Blay, followed by Vishous, made his way into the recovery room. 

Blay cautiously walked to Qhuinn’s bedside, who was starting to awaken from the anesthesia. Mismatched eyes opened briefly when he heard Blay’s voice. The redhead curled his hand around Qhuinn’s cheek.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up.” Blay said, running a finger along Qhuinn’s eyebrows and lips. His face was ashen, lips and skin cool to the touch. 

After a couple of failed attemps, Qhuinn opened his eyes. His mouth felt cottony and his throat was very dry. He swallowed twice before responding. 

Struggling to focus his sight, Qhuinn croaked a “Hi” in the general direction of his mate's scent. Knowing how Blay was feeling, he attempted a small, pathetic grin. 

“How are you feeling? You gave me quite a fright, Q.” Blay whispered, bending over the stretcher and speaking close to Qhuinn’s face.

Sandpaper on his voice, Qhuinn licked his dry lips twice. “Fine” he said. 

“Liar” Blay said. “I heard what happened”. Qhuinn had been on patrol that night with Vishous and Rhage. They had found some lessers and won the ensuing fight, but none had been aware that one of the lessers ran away. After they stabbed the lessers to the Omega and continued patrolling, the trio had turned a corner and had found themselves in the line of fire. The lesser took several pot shots as he sped away in a van. Qhuinn had pushed the brother out of the way on time, taking a bullet on his thigh as they both hit the ground. 

A pair of shit kickers approached the stretcher. The black goatee attached to Vishous’ visage became visible near the bottom of Qhuinn’s bed. The patient strained to focus his eyes and look at the solemn vampire. 

“Hey, little brother” V greeted him.

“V?” Qhuinn whispered.

“This is becoming a habit of yours, saving our asses” V said wryly. His expression turned serious and he looked straight into the blue and green eyes. “Thanks”. 

Qhuinn dropped his head to the side, faintly shaking V’s words off, eyes closing. 

Blay spoke. “Manello wants you to spend the night here for observation. Phury is bringing Cordhie, so you need to feed.”

Turning his face right, Qhuinn faintly squeezed Blay’s hand and with supreme effort said: “Blay, don’t leave me, ok?”

“Never” the redhead said, eyes trained on the mismatched gaze, a smile on his lips, the promise one that needed no explanations or additions. He ran his lips briefly against the strong hand intertwined with his own. 

Upon hearing the soft words exchanged, Butch, who stood at the door, lifted his eyes. His whiskey gaze collided with the clear one of his best friend’s. The diamond eyes softened in response. Butch remembered when he laid on the same suite, his options limited, his future uncertain, his life in the tattooed vampire’s hands. He knew what he was facing, knew the odds. He also knew he had no life outside of the brotherhood. The same words had been exchanged then. Another thick bolt in the chain linking these two brothers had been forged that night. 

Vishous remembered the same event. All he could foresee at the time was that the cop belonged with them- oral hardware upgrade included. The vampire knew and weighted every risk in causing the human cop to become as they, but Butch had made the ultimate decision. Each vein he had put a blade to that night he felt on his own skin. He had meticulously counted every slowed heartbeat, scrutinized every breath, and gauged every drop of blood lost diligently as Butch had slipped out of his humanity. Every second counted, every move was critical. His best friend had asked him not to abandon him that night. He seemed ignorant to the fact that the vampire never again would. 

The brother quietly slid out of the room, granting a measure of privacy to the two souls in there. Vishous collected his abandoned harness and weapons, and both he and Butch wordlessly headed for the Pit. They ambled out of the clinic, bodies walking in a perfectly synchronized beat. As they entered the tunnel, Butch took a hold of V’s forearm. The vampire stopped with a small frown and a question on his tongue. 

The cop brought the vampire to himself and hugged him very tightly, inhaling deeply the comforting scent of tobacco, leather and sweat mingled together with the sharp iron of blood. 

“Oh God” V heard Butch say in a tone of voice that stabbed him.

The vampire’s weapons clanked on the floor as he returned the gesture. Butch seemed physically incapable to let go. His whole body seemed to shake, arms tight around V’s back as he buried his fingers in the midnight hair. Vishous cradled his nape and kept holding his best friend until he got himself under control. 

After loosening his hold a little, Butch brushed his lips at the juncture of the vampire’s neck and shoulder. He pulled back, holding V’s face in his hands. His thumbs ran up and down the veins on V’s supple neck as his eyes examined all of V’s face, touching his shoulders, arms, chest. He took hold of his friend again and quietly whispered for his ears only: “That was going to be you”.


End file.
